


Les Enfants Terribles

by futuresoon



Series: Loosely connected stories about Sho Minazuki [4]
Category: Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:44:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4478042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futuresoon/pseuds/futuresoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ikutsuki really didn't know what he was getting into when he brought in two young boys instead of one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Les Enfants Terribles

**Author's Note:**

> So [linefaced](http://archiveofourown.org/users/linefaced/pseuds/linefaced) wrote [a thing](http://linefaced.tumblr.com/post/124266464372/minazuki-washing-shos-hair) and I thought, shit, I want to do that. So. I did that. Yes.

Ikutsuki looks at the new collection of children. Unwanted, forgotten, or whatever else made them easy to acquire; he wasn’t actually there for the collection process. None of them are over the age of six; Ergo Research wants its test subjects malleable.

Some of them seem more promising than others. Ikutsuki knows that appearances can be deceiving, however, and would not be surprised to find something unexpected. The little girl who stares at the floor might prove to have fire in her eyes. The little boy who keeps asking questions about his parents might become the most stoic of them all.

The little boy who keeps kicking people and yells at anyone who tries to touch him, however, probably will not quiet down any time soon.

Or at least that seemed to be the case, for the boy has a shadow, and after things started to escalate the shadow touched his shoulder and whispered something in his ear, and he seemed to calm down, after that.

Not fully. But enough that he switched to just glaring at everyone.

Ikutsuki doesn’t know why the collectors chose a pair of twins, but if that’s the only way they could get the second one, he doesn’t mind.

“We tried,” a weary collector explains to him later, once he asks. “They wouldn’t separate. There’s something about the quiet one, though--can’t you tell? No way we could pass that one up. Besides, the other one might be useful. That kind of anger might channel well.”

There’s more than just anger, though, Ikutsuki realizes, once they start testing. Both of the boys are almost inhumanly agile, and strong, too, and not afraid to use it--some of the other subjects are reticent to fight, but these two seem to have no qualms at all. He wonders what sort of life they had, for two children so young to be so violent.

Not all the children remember their names. Even the ones that do receive new ones; their old lives are gone, soon to be forgotten entirely. Ikutsuki tries giving names to the twins, but, to his surprise, meets resistance--not at being given new names at all, but at being given _separate_ ones.

The quiet one refuses to take his first name. The loud one refuses to be called by their last name. In the end, Ikutsuki throws up his hands and decides it doesn’t actually matter. 

Sho and Minazuki. They might as well be a single unit.

It’s at this point that Ikutsuki realizes that selecting twins may have been a bad idea.

\---

Half the time, they won’t even test separately. Ergo Research has already made the decision to isolate all the children from each other except in combat; it makes it easier to mold them, if a single researcher is their only world. There was never any question of isolating the twins from each other, though, and Ikutsuki gets the honor of being the one to deal with them, partly because he was the one to remark that their codependence might not be an issue. They still won’t see anyone else, after all. Their situation isn’t so different from the others.

Not that this stops Ikutsuki from getting a headache every time they refuse to even leave their room if they’re not together.

“’m not going,” Sho says, glaring. “Not without him.”

Minazuki silently nods assent. At least he doesn’t yell.

“I need to see how you work on your own,” Ikutsuki says, trying to maintain the patience in his voice. “In combat situations, it might not be possible to stay with each other at all times. No matter how strong you are together, if you can’t handle being apart, you’re worthless.”

Sho wilts a little at that, but Minazuki doesn’t break eye contact. “We’ll be okay,” Minazuki says. 

“No, you _won’t_ ,” Ikutsuki says, and sighs. “Sho-kun, I’m disappointed in you.”

And there you have it; for all Sho’s aggression, he lives and dies for approval. He’s not hard to manipulate, if you know how. And Ikutsuki is very rapidly learning how.

Sho’s face crumbles. He looks over at Minazuki. “Maybe…” he mumbles.

Minazuki’s face is cold, but he doesn’t say anything. Ikutsuki hasn’t figured out how to manipulate _him_ yet. He generally goes along with something if it makes Sho happy. Generally. Sometimes the things that make Sho happy can turn out painful, and Minazuki doesn’t seem to like those so much.

Not painful for him. Minazuki doesn’t seem to mind that at all. It’s anything that hurts _Sho_ that Minazuki takes issue with.

“You’ll be together again later tonight,” Ikutsuki says. “After Minazuki-kun’s finished his tests. As long as you both do well, nothing will go wrong.”

They always do well.

Finally, Minazuki nods, and Ikutsuki leads Sho into the testing area. Today they’re working on reflexes. All the test subjects need to know when an attack is coming.

Sho hasn’t quite mastered that yet, but then, he’s six. They’ve got a ways to go.

Unusually high agility doesn’t always mean much if you’ve very little experience to back it up, so Sho takes a few knocks. Blunt force only, this early, so there’s no blood or permanent damage, just bruises and complaints that stop once Ikutsuki gives him a disapproving frown.

When it’s time to switch, Sho flops down on his bed and stretches out before resting his arms behind his head. Minazuki looks at him for a few seconds. “’m fine,” Sho says. “Go do it.”

Minazuki doesn’t complain at all whenever he gets hit. Which does happen a few times, early on, until Ikutsuki turns on the speaker from behind the observation window and says, “Are you distracted, Minazuki-kun?”

Minazuki barely manages to dodge a blow from one of the automated drones, and doesn’t say anything. Ikutsuki takes it as a “yes”.

“Worrying about him gets in your way,” Ikutsuki says. “You need to be able to remove him from your thoughts if you’re going to be an effective weapon.”

Weapon; that’s what Ergo Research calls its children, besides “test subjects”. Some of the children don’t like it, but they’ll stop soon enough, when they realize it’s true. They’re not soldiers. If everything goes as planned, they’ll be used to combat Shadows when needed and be kept aside when they’re not. Ergo Research doesn’t need its products to have free will.

Free will can be hard to stamp out, though. 

Minazuki performs better during the rest of the test, but Ikutsuki’s not sure if that’s out of obedience or spite.

At their room once again, Minazuki sits down on his bed. Sho holds out his arm to show the beginnings of what will probably be a rather nasty bruise. “How many you got?” he asks.

Minazuki rolls up a pants leg to show off his scraped-up knee. Ikutsuki leaves them to compare war wounds.

He wonders how long it will take to get them to separate, and grimly concludes that he doesn’t have high hopes.

\---

A few years down the line, and Ergo Research’s collection of children has dwindled considerably. Dying from fatal wounds or stress or suicide. 

Or the twins.

Combat with either of them tends to cause at least one of the three, these days.

Ikutsuki is partly concerned, because test subjects cost money and time and there aren’t as many viable replacements as you’d think, and partly proud, because the twins are _his_ creation. Years of refining them have paid off. The other researchers grudgingly concede that he’s had the most success, once they’ve stopped glaring at him for the deaths of their own subjects.

The success isn’t without its qualifiers, however. The twins haven’t grown any less attached to each other. In fact, Ikutsuki suspects they’ve become even closer than they would have been in a normal life; Ergo Research created an environment where they live apart from the rest of humanity, and when Ikutsuki isn’t there, all they have is each other. He is not their world. He is part of it, but not the most important part.

They don’t even sleep in separate beds anymore. They spend a great deal of their free time talking to each other, or at least Sho talks and Minazuki provides the occasional comment. During combat, their movements are in perfect sync.

If it weren’t for the markedly different personalities, there would be no distinction between the two. One person in two bodies. 

Both Ikutsuki and Ergo Research in general are very curious to see how that affects the development of Personas.

No one’s had much success yet with that, though. They’re looking into artificial methods. Inducing Personas is harder than they thought.

Stress tests didn’t work on any of the subjects, but it went especially poorly with the twins. Ikutsuki very nearly feared for his life, the way Minazuki looked at him afterwards, holding Sho up with one arm while barely managing to stay upright himself. In all his life, he’d never felt such raw malice, and coming from such a small form, at that.

And yet, little Mitsuru Kirijo manifested a Persona on her own, purely so she could protect her father.

There’s something to be had in that thought.

Ikutsuki watches the latest test through the observation window. They’ve started trying older combatants against the twins, partly to see how they handle the higher difficulty and partly because they’re starting to run out of younger ones. Today, a pair of teenagers armed with knives, versus a pair of nine-year-olds armed with nothing. But then, the twins are never truly unarmed, are they. 

The teenagers entered the arena with confidence, sure that they would make short work of the kids and go back to their own tests unscathed.

They are not so confident now.

“Is that all you got?” Sho says, a sharp grin on his face as he leaps out of the way of his attacker’s knife. “Man, I thought you guys’d be way cooler! Fighting the big kids was supposed to be a challenge, right?”

“Right,” Minazuki says, weaving behind his own attacker and jamming his foot into the back of the boy’s knee. The boy swears and stumbles, starting to fall before he steadies himself and twists around. But Minazuki has already sidestepped him, and takes the opportunity to grab onto the boy’s right wrist.

The twins have quite a grip. He wrenches it with both hands, twisting it at an unnatural angle, the sound of snapping bones evident. The boy cries out, and, quite fatally, drops the knife.

Minazuki darts down to grab it before it even hits the floor. He slices at the boy’s calves, severing his Achilles tendon. The boy goes down, and the knife goes to his throat.

Sho, meanwhile, has kept up his taunting. “You can’t even get a single hit on me, can you?” he says, backflipping away from the next strike. Flashy, Ikutsuki notes, but effective anyway. As Minazuki strikes his own fatal blow, Sho neatly leaps onto his own opponent’s shoulders and slams his feet into the crooks of the boy’s arms. The impact causes the boy to let go of the knife. Things proceed in a similar fashion from there.

Only a few minutes have passed, and the twins have disarmed and killed their larger opponents. Ikutsuki applauds from behind the window. “Very good, you two,” he says into the speaker. “Wait for debrief.”

The twins, breathing heavily, walk towards each other and stand together. “I win,” Minazuki says, glancing back at the body of the boy he just killed. “I got mine first.”

Sho glowers at him. “I coulda beat you,” he says.

“You were talking too much. It keeps you from focusing on your movements.”

“I did just fine anyway!”

“But I’m the one who won.”

Ikutsuki enters the room. The corpses, slowly pooling with blood, are well away from his feet. “I notice you didn’t coordinate with each other this time,” he says. “What’s the reason behind that?”

“We made a bet,” Minazuki says. “Whoever kills first, wins.”

“Oh?” Ikutsuki asks, surprised. That’s curious. The twins don’t often go in for competition. “What’s the prize?”

“Nothin’,” Sho says sullenly. “Just winning.”

“And I won,” Minazuki says, sounding just a little proud. Minazuki doesn’t often go in for emotion, either; anger, sometimes, but much colder than Sho’s, and quiet contentment, when Sho seems happy, but that’s about the extent of it. Pride is new. A sign that they’re becoming separate entities, perhaps?

 _“Whatever,”_ Sho says, and loops his arm around Minazuki’s shoulders, flashing Ikutsuki a grin. “We did good, right?”

“Very good,” Ikutsuki repeats. Sho brightens even further under the praise, as always. “Now, I’m needed elsewhere, so the two of you will be in the agility training area for the rest of the day.” He doesn’t ask if that’s all right; they’ve never disobeyed.

“We’re not fighting anyone?” Sho asks, looking a little disappointed.

“Not today. Get going, I’ve informed the cleaners.”

Ikutsuki’s always made sure Sho and Minazuki don’t see anyone else multiple times. He doesn’t want them to get used to other people. He and the tests are the only constant in their world.

And each other, of course.

So he shuttles them away from the arena for now, and is thankful the facility has an excellent cleaning staff.

\---

Once he’s finished his business--just a meeting with the less-informed higher-ups, little Mitsuru is doing well, such a shame her father would never consent to any tests--Ikutsuki decides to review the security footage from the twins’ training session. Not that he expects anything especially interesting, but he does like to stay up-to-date on their progress.

Most of it is uneventful. Sho and Minazuki both have exemplary records with the equipment, and there’s only so many times you can see a child do an eight-foot standing jump before it becomes less noteworthy. 

Really, who _were_ these children’s parents, and can he have them produce more.

He watches their routines on the balance beam with a disinterested eye. In another world, they could be gymnasts like the world has never seen. In this one, they will be the greatest weapon against Shadows there is. All they need are Personas. They already have the raw power, skills, and loyalty to him; with just that last step…

…that last, increasingly frustrating step…

On screen, Sho jumps down from his position on top of the chin-up bar and takes a breather, leaning against the wall with Minazuki. The audio isn’t stellar, but Ikutsuki can still make out what they’re saying.

“We did great today, huh?” Sho says, wiping sweat off his forehead with a proud look on his face. “Dad really liked it.”

Minazuki is silent for a moment before saying, “Did they think we were a test for them?”

Sho wrinkles his brow. “Huh?”

“Those boys. Were they told the fight was to test them? Did they think they were being tested on whether or not they could kill us?”

Sho frowns. “I dunno. Does it matter?”

Minazuki stares into space. “Maybe they thought they were important,” he says.

“You think too much,” Sho says, stretching his arms over his head. 

“What if we’re like them? What if we only think we’re important, and someday we’ll just be practice for someone else?”

Sho drops his arms to his sides and gives Minazuki an annoyed look. “That’s stupid,” he says. “There’s no one better than us.”

“Maybe,” Minazuki says. He doesn’t look convinced.

“Anyway, dad loves us,” Sho says, like he’s stating a fact of the universe. “He wouldn’t do that.”

It’s almost too quiet for the camera to pick up, when Minazuki says, “He’s not our dad.”

Sho looks at him in utter disbelief. “Yes he is,” he says. “Who else would he be?”

“In the books, people have moms, too,” Minazuki says, looking at the floor. “We don’t have a mom. We don’t have anyone.”

“We have _him,”_ Sho says, slowly, like he doesn’t get why Minazuki doesn’t understand the obvious.

“He doesn’t do stuff dads are supposed to do,” Minazuki says. “I think he’s a teacher, not a dad.”

Sho looks like he still doesn’t get it. “What’s that mean?” he asks.

“It means he only likes us if we’re good at stuff,” Minazuki says. “If we stop being good at stuff, he won’t like us anymore. Maybe he didn’t like those boys, either.”

“That’s _stupid,”_ Sho repeats. Perhaps he can’t think of more evidence for his argument. “Why’re you thinking about this stuff, anyway?”

Minazuki shrugs. “I don’t know. Those boys just looked really surprised, that’s all.”

The conversation peters off, and they go back to their training, though Sho stumbles a little coming off the balance beam. Ikutsuki feels disquieted. Perhaps he shouldn’t have given them any books. He’d wanted them to know how to read, and it gave them a way to relax after a day’s work, but Minazuki…

He knows Minazuki is the more intelligent of the two. It’s not a knock on Sho; Sho isn’t a particularly difficult student, just sometimes easily-distracted. But the collectors said there was something about Minazuki, and they were right. More and more, it seems like Minazuki may be too smart for his own good.

Shame he’s the more promising one. A certain degree of intelligence is useful, and he’s remarkably focused when he needs to be; Sho can be a bit all over the place at times. Sho certainly isn’t _weak--_ the fights against other test subjects have proven over and over that he has a head up over the rest of humanity, and when it comes to strength, he and Minazuki are essentially the same. But he relies on instinct. Minazuki pays more attention to his surroundings, puts more thought into his actions. Moreover, Minazuki is the stronger candidate when it comes to the next attempt to induce a Persona.

Besides, Minazuki doesn’t remember anything besides loyalty to Ergo Research. He’ll settle down with time. 

Ikutsuki does not consider the fact that Minazuki’s greatest loyalty, however, has never been to them--

\--but to Sho.

\---

There really isn’t much to go on when it comes to how to induce Personas. Theories and guesswork are what Ergo Research has been focusing on, and they’ve turned up nothing. Artificial Personas are certainly in the works, but the science behind them isn’t exact yet. Ikutsuki doesn’t want to risk putting his favorite subjects in undue harm. Yet.

No, Ergo Research hasn’t come up with anything on its own. When it comes down to it, they only know of one precise set of circumstances that caused a Persona to manifest.

Little Mitsuru was so desperate to save her father, wasn’t she?

It’s a risk, removing the twins from the facility. They haven’t seen the outside in years, likely barely remembered seeing it at all. But there’s no way to just teleport here. All along the ride, the twins are glued to the van’s tinted windows, trying to glimpse whatever they could. Ikutsuki has to resist the urge to reprimand them. It wouldn’t do much good, and Minazuki would probably start asking questions. Besides, the presence of the guards is making them antsy. They aren’t used to being around so many people.

Watching Gekkoukan High School transform is an unsettling experience no matter how many times you’ve seen it. The twins, outside in the cold air of the Dark Hour, behold it in silence. And then they enter the gates.

Ikutsuki stares up at the door to Tartarus. Such an imposing room. He doesn’t care to be in it--he has no Persona of his own, of course, and no particular combat ability to begin with. And so he stays rather close to the exit. The guards, equipped with guns (for all the good it’d do--well, at any rate they’d make for a good distraction while he escapes) shift uneasily on their feet. 

The exact circumstances would be difficult to replicate. Ergo Research has stopped trying to develop the potential artificially; they’re focusing on people who have it naturally, these days, and so finding a subject to turn into a Shadow in the entrance area of Tartarus did not have positive results. But there is a very easy way to find Shadows, isn’t there?

Unfortunately, there’s no way of communicating between Tartarus and the outside world, not without Mitsuru. So if Ikutsuki wants to know what’s happening in there, he has to be there himself. He swallows and reminds himself that if this works, he will be one step closer to getting everything he wants. 

The twins stand next to him, looking up at the giant door. “We’re really going in there?” Sho asks. “I thought only people with Personas could do that.”

“Anyone with the potential can enter Tartarus,” Ikutsuki says. “Surviving in there is a different matter. But I have confidence in you two.”

Sho grins and looks at Minazuki. Minazuki doesn’t look quite so convinced, though. Which is for the best, really.

Ikutsuki hands each of them a sword. They’ve taken well to those; they’re a force to be reckoned with even unarmed, and knives add an extra edge (hah! That’s a good one, he’ll have to remember that), but the extra range a sword gives them works especially well for children without an adult’s reach. He’s had to replace quite a few training dummies lately.

“The basics of the test are simple,” Ikutsuki says, kneeling down and looking them in the eyes. “You only have to kill one Shadow. It won’t be easy, but both of you have trained well. If you can prove that Shadows can be beaten without Personas, then our lack of progress in producing them may not be such an issue. This is very important, you two.”

The twins nod in unison. Sho looks happy to be trusted with something like this, but also a little wary. Minazuki doesn’t look happy at all. But he says nothing.

“Right!” Ikutsuki claps his hands together and notices how badly they’re sweating. He wipes them on his pants leg, hoping no one will notice, or at least not comment. “Shall we?”

All of them--guards, twins, Ikutsuki--enter through the towering door, and into the land of monsters.

Ikutsuki’s never been in Tartarus proper before, for obvious reasons. He’s heard descriptions, though, from Mitsuru and her entourage. She’d called it an unpleasant place, and now he can certainly see why; even the air in this long, dark corridor feels oppressive. Ikutsuki can feel a headache coming on. Off in the distance, there is the faint sound of something shuffling across the floor.

The halls are silent. No one dares to speak. Ikutsuki finally finds his voice, though, and says, very quietly, “Sho-kun, you’re up first.”

The twins’ heads jerk towards him. “Alone?” Sho whispers, traces of fear showing on his face.

“I thought we were doing this together,” Minazuki whispers, his eyes hard. “It’ll be a lot harder alone. Why are we doing that?”

“I’ve told you, haven’t I?” Ikutsuki whispers. “You can’t always be together. You need to know how to fight separately.”

“We can do that,” Minazuki insists. “You know we can do that.”

Indeed, he does. They’ve come a long way. But when has Ikutsuki ever been hesitant to bend the truth?

“Nevertheless,” Ikutsuki says. His eyes flicker from the twins to the dark end of the hallway. “Are you disobeying me, Sho-kun?”

Sho swallows. “No,” he mumbles.

“Good boy. Now proceed ahead. We’ll follow.”

Sho hesitates for a moment, eyes on Minazuki, who nods, with obvious great reluctance. Whatever is communicated in their expressions, Ikutsuki can’t say. 

Sho grips his sword in his hand and starts walking softly down the hall, keeping his footsteps quiet. In the near-silence, the sound of a faint, burbling moan rings out clear as a bell.

Ikutsuki’s been told Tartarus is like a maze, corridors twisting and turning while Shadows crawl across the floor. The Shadows aren’t always polite enough to announce their presence, either. Perhaps this is auspicious.

As Sho creeps along, the rest follow at a good distance behind him, trying to stay quiet themselves. The guards may be restless, but they’ve been told silence is a necessity, and some of them have even been to Tartarus before. Not far into it, but still.

The corridor forks at the end. Sho stops, puts his hand to his ear, and takes the left path. The next moan is a little louder. Ikutsuki can see Sho’s hand tightening on his sword.

Suddenly, the moan becomes a roar. Sho sprints out of sight, sword in front of him. Ikutsuki signals the guards and Minazuki to move faster--if there’s only one Shadow in the vicinity, and it’s occupied with Sho, they should be able to catch up to him now. While still maintaining distance, of course.

The sight that greets them when they arrive almost takes Ikutsuki’s breath away. This is the true state of Tartarus--a dark inhabitant in vicious combat with an intruder. He’s never seen a Shadow before, but this is almost beautiful. Such wonderful creatures…it’s a shame not everyone sees it that way, it really is. A puddle of black sludge with a blue mask rises up on the ground in front of Sho, slashing out at him with the claws on its long limbs. He parries, but it’s a close thing.

No one has ever been able to kill a Shadow without a Persona. The best they’ve managed to do is distract one long enough to run for the exit, and the one time they had the misfortune to run into two Shadows at the same time was a bloodbath. The only person to ever strike a killing blow is Mitsuru. Which does mean that being a child is no concern, but it was her Persona that did the work. Without intervention, this battle is sure to end Sho’s life.

Oh, he gets some strikes in. The Shadow bellows as he slices one of its arms nearly in two. But the sludge just reforms itself, and Sho is forced to leap out of the way to avoid being raked open.

Ikutsuki glances over to Minazuki. “This is not your fight,” Ikutsuki says. “Wait until he finishes. Then we’ll find you another one.”

Minazuki’s eyes are fixed on Sho, his free hand balled into a tight fist and his sword hand clenching the hilt hard enough that Ikutsuki wonders if it might actually break. “What if he loses?” Minazuki says, deathly quiet.

“As I said, I have the utmost confidence in both of you,” Ikutsuki says. “If there’s anyone who can defeat a Shadow without a Persona, it’s you two.”

A pair of children. Extraordinarily gifted, and with the training to back it up, but children. 

Lies upon lies. If Ikutsuki ever had even the slightest concern for his mortal soul, he might pause to consider his actions.

The fight goes on, roars mixed with the sharp sound of metal against claw and the peculiar burbling Shadows make when they move. Sho is usually much louder during combat, full of battle cries and taunts and general noise, but here, he’s silent but for his increasingly ragged breath. It would be unsettling, if Ikutsuki wasn’t inclined to think of it as a good thing right now. 

Sho isn’t quite fast enough to completely avoid a swipe at his face. One claw slices from just above his left eye down to his right cheek. He cries out at that, but quickly grits his teeth and keeps going. Ikutsuki’s proud of him, really.

Minazuki’s whole body stiffens. “Permission to engage,” he says, the ice in his voice starting to trickle with fear.

“Denied,” Ikutsuki says. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

How much longer would it be? Perhaps a minute? Sho’s reactions are becoming fractionally slower. Ikutsuki remembers being told that the atmosphere in Tartarus becomes particularly oppressive when Shadows are near. He’s weakening fast.

One misstep, and Sho stumbles, knocked to the ground by the next attack. Ikutsuki holds his breath. Any moment--

\--the Shadow lunges with a roar, claws outstretched, about to tear him open--

\--and _there._

Minazuki’s fraying obedience snaps. A red blur springs into the fray, and the air around them suddenly turns red as blood, a dull glow snapping into being above the scene. There, _there!_ Ikutsuki can’t breathe at all, can only stare in wonderment as a dark figure rushes down and collides with the Shadow. It all happens in an instant. Between one blink and the next, both the Shadow and the figure are gone.

The red light fades. Minazuki is already helping Sho up, steadying him. Ikutsuki notices a splatter of blood on Minazuki’s face; the Shadow must have gotten a strike in. Another slice. Right eye to left cheek.

It’s not the injury, though, that stands out on Minazuki’s face. Minazuki’s expression is _furious,_ beyond even the malice Ikutsuki felt after the stress test, and Ikutsuki almost finds himself wanting to take a step back. 

“You planned this,” Minazuki says, and if his voice was ice before then now it’s a glacier. “This is what you _wanted.”_

“And I’m so proud of both of you,” Ikutsuki says, trying to sound as soothing as possible. “This wouldn’t have worked if you weren’t both as strong as you are. And it worked perfectly! Do you understand what this means, Minazuki-kun? You are the second person in the world to exhibit a confirmed Persona!”

“He would have died,” Minazuki says, still bracing Sho on one shoulder. “If I hadn’t been able to do that, he would have _died.”_

“But you _were_ able to do that! Don’t you feel proud that you were able to save him?”

“You don’t care what I’m feeling,” Minazuki says. “You’ve never cared.”

He carefully lets go of Sho, making sure Sho can stand on his own. It’s a little wobbly, and Sho looks equal parts scared and confused, but he manages it. Another moment of silent communication passes between them, and Sho hesitantly hands Minazuki his sword.

Ikutsuki tenses. He is flanked by four trained soldiers with guns, and in a tower full of crawling monstrosities, and yet right now the scariest thing he can think of is the nine-year-old half a dozen yards away from him.

Carefully, cautiously, Ikutsuki says, “Of course I do. I’ve always helped you two reach your full potential.”

Minazuki’s grip on the swords tightens. “What _is_ our potential?” he asks.

“To defend the world against Shadows,” Ikutsuki says. “You two are our greatest hope, and you’ve done nothing but impress me.” Will praise help?

But this is Minazuki, not Sho. “What would you do if we didn’t impress you?” he asks.

Ikutsuki can’t hesitate, can’t show weakness, but also has to pick his words carefully. “I would keep working with you until you did,” he says.

“What if we never did? What if we weren’t strong enough? Would you still be _proud_ of us if we couldn’t kill for you?”

“Minazuki…” Sho says softly.

Minazuki doesn’t seem to register it. “You don’t care,” he repeats. “We’re not people to you--we’re _things,_ just part of the plan you think no one else knows about.”

A deep current of unease shoots up Ikutsuki’s spine. “I’m afraid I don’t know what plan you’re talking about,” he says.

There’s a darkness in Minazuki’s eyes, as malicious and inhuman as Tartarus. “For someone training us how to fight Shadows, you sure had us kill a lot of _humans,”_ he says.

Inwardly, Ikutsuki curses whatever made a child so perceptive. 

“But none of that _matters,”_ Minazuki says. “I don’t even care. The only thing that _matters_ is--why was it me, instead of Sho? Why were you more willing to risk him than me?”

It is at this point that Ikutsuki makes the greatest mistake of his life.

If Minazuki wants truth, why not give it to him? Ikutsuki puts on his most fatherly expression and says, “In all honesty, you’re more valuable than he is.”

Minazuki laughs. Louder and louder, almost hysterical, unhinged; his shoulders shake, his eyes close. The sound of it echoes through Tartarus’ twisting corridors. Ikutsuki is certain he hears burbling much too close for comfort. They’ve stayed in here for too long. Where is the exit?

The exit is--

\--past the throaty roar behind them.

Shadows can manifest anywhere in Tartarus. There’s a long enough stretch of space between them and the exit for one to have come into being. Or two, or three. Black puddles with long limbs and blue faces. An impenetrable block in their path.

How much of a distraction can the guards be? Not an effective one, not when there’s no room to sneak behind them. 

A trapped-rat panic threatens to overwhelm Ikutsuki’s senses. He is going to die, here. In this world he should never have entered. Shadows will crawl over his corpse and no one will know his last words.

Except.

The laughing dies down. Ikutsuki turns back around to see the twins still standing. They seem unperturbed by the Shadows, or at least not more than they already were. Minazuki’s face is almost relaxed. Sho’s uncertainty has been replaced by the combat-ready expression Ikutsuki has seen so many times before a test, though it lacks the usual undercurrent of excitement.

Minazuki smiles, and his smile is simple, peaceful, not the knife-edge grin Sho so often wears or even the quiet contentment he sometimes showed after a successful session. It’s the smile of someone who has found what they’ve been looking for, and sees no obstacles in their path to get it.

Gunfire erupts behind him. Ikutsuki turns and sees the Shadows lunging at the guards, who surely know there is nothing to be done and yet are desperate for even the slightest chance anyway. Briefly, he wonders if it might not be quicker to grab one of their guns and take the easy way out.

A sudden force rushes past him. The twins, fast as always, leap into the morass of Shadows, somehow avoiding the spray of bullets. The dark figure appears above them once more, clawing through the outstretched limbs. Minazuki’s swords carve a path, leaving enough room for the twins to dash down the hallway, a puddle of dying Shadows in their wake.

The Shadows wave feebly before moaning their last and dissipating into nothingness. Down, down the hall, the twins run, all the way through the exit, the dark figure fading above them.

Ikutsuki isn’t quite dazed enough to not cry out “After them!”. The guards make chase, and he follows as fast as he can.

The door to the main room is kicked open, and he can barely see the twins vaulting down the stairs before they throw open the entrance door and flee into the night. Ikutsuki and the guards rush out of the building. Off in the distance, twin specks of red take a turn somewhere and vanish.

“They don’t know where they’re going,” Ikutsuki pants, exhausted from the run, hands on his knees. “They don’t remember ever being in a city; they’ll get confused. And they can’t exactly take the bus. Sooner or later, they’ll stop running and wait for us to find them. This isn’t a disaster. Just a setback.”

The guards don’t look so sure, but they don’t argue the point. “We’ll set up a perimeter,” one of them says. “They won’t get far.”

As he catches his breath, Ikutsuki stares out at the night. The full moon shines down on the strange streets of the Dark Hour. Eventually, the twins will realize they don’t know how to handle the world outside the facility. They’ll give in. He’ll have to take measures to curb any remaining vestiges of rebellion, but everything will be fine again. And he’ll have new data to work with. Temporary setbacks aside, this night has been an extraordinary success.

There’s no need for concern. The twins will see reason. 

…won’t they?

\---

Several streets away, in a back alley, Sho wipes the blood off Minazuki’s face with his shirtsleeve. “Shadows cut pretty deep, huh,” he says.

“So it would seem.” Minazuki does the same for Sho. The cuts aren’t healed, not by far, but he and Sho have always been fast healers. The bleeding has already slowed.

Sho looks around them. “Where are we gonna go?” he asks quietly. “We’ve never been anywhere like this. Everything’s all big and cold.” He shivers in the night air.

“They’re looking for us here,” Minazuki says, glancing around. “We have to go somewhere else.” He doesn’t know where that would be, or how they would get there.

Sho suddenly grins. “What if we go back there?” he asks, pointing in the general direction they came from. “They’re not gonna look in there, right?”

It’s a remarkably suicidal idea. Maybe. Sho’s getting stronger, and they’re armed, and there’s a powerful presence in the back of Minazuki’s mind, waiting to be summoned.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Minazuki says, nodding. “We can stay in that big room with the door. It’s probably safer there.”

With a nod of his own, Sho peeks out into the street. “Clear,” he says.

They know how to be quiet when they run. Their footsteps barely make a sound, even in the silence of the Dark Hour. When they get back to the gates, they stare up at them for just a moment. Tartarus rises high, high, high; it’s a fearful sight.

But they know fear. 

They enter the gates once more.

\---

On the next full moon, the Kirijos decide to make another visit, to examine any potential changes in Tartarus. They do that, every now and then.

“There isn’t likely to be anything we can do about it,” a scientist in their entourage says. “Without any additional Persona users, exploring Tartarus is still beyond us, miss.”

“That remains to be seen,” says Mitsuru, straight-backed and unafraid, beholding the familiar gates. “Come, let us enter.”

In truth, she expects nothing. Further scanning with Penthesilea. Another frustrating hour. But she can’t just stop trying; not when her family has so much to atone for, not when there are so many mysteries. _Someday,_ they will find something. She is certain. 

Once they’re inside, she gazes up at the door. What designed it so, she wonders? It could just as easily have been the front door of the school. This cavernous, elegant chamber has no reason to exist. And yet it does. There are so many mysteries.

She closes her eyes and reaches deep inside her, calling forth Penthesilea while the scientists are still setting up the equipment. It isn’t a proper summon, not really, not without an Evoker. But she thinks Penthesilea likes the attention. Idly, she lets her perception expand, the auras of the people around her a quiet hum--

\--and she staggers. A bright flare encompasses her mental vision. Penthesilea draws herself up in Mitsuru’s mind and focuses her gaze on the towering stairs.

That is not the quiet hum of someone with the potential, nor the near-silence of someone without it, nor even the dull glow of a Shadow. It feels both strange and deeply familiar. It feels not unlike herself.

There is someone behind the stairs.

Her father steadies her, concern written on his features. “Are you all right?” he asks.

She nods, and holds a finger to her lips. He frowns, but says nothing. Carefully, she makes her way through the scientists, moving slowly to the staircase.

No sound comes from behind it, but inside her she can see a bright pulse; and, she realizes, another, much smaller, but not quite like the others either. Two, then. She can feel how tightly-coiled their nerves are. 

As she rounds the bend, she sees them.

Two boys, a little younger than her. Wild red hair. Matching faces and matching scars. Even matching clothes. Each of them clutches a sword tight, and each of them looks ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. They seem startled; did they expect anyone to detect them?

“Hello,” she says quietly, putting up her hands. “My name’s Mitsuru. Who are you?”

She has countless questions. But the boys look like they’re not sure whether or not they should attack her, and it is probably safer to make sure they know she’s not a threat first.

They don’t answer her. “Are you from Ergo Research?” one of them asks, instead.

“They work for my family,” Mitsuru says, and instantly regrets it, because they stiffen and look like they’re about to make a break for it. “I’m not part of them,” she says quickly, hoping a half-lie won’t get noticed. “Did they do something to you?”

The other one laughs. “What _didn’t_ they do,” he says.

“We’re not going back,” the first one says, his eyes narrowed. “You can’t make us do anything.”

“I won’t,” Mitsuru says. “I won’t even tell anyone you’re here, if you want. I can tell my father I came behind the stairs because I thought I sensed something but it turned out to be nothing.” He’d wonder why she stayed behind so long if there was nothing, but they don’t need to know about that.

The first one frowns. “What do you mean, sensed?”

Mitsuru gestures towards her head. “Sometimes I know where things are even if I can’t see them,” she says. “It’s because of my Persona. And you have one too, don’t you?”

It’s a calculated risk. She doesn’t know what else the strange-familiar reading she got off one of them could be. Maybe they won’t react well to someone guessing that about them. But what else can she say, at this point?

Both of them widen their eyes. “You’re _her?”_ the second one says.

The first one looks like he wants to deny it, but it’s too late for that. “You’re the Kirijo girl,” he says. “The first person to manifest a Persona on record.” He looks profoundly uncertain now; like this new information has thrown him off-kilter and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Ikutsuki talked about you,” the second one says, just as uncertain. 

It’s Mitsuru’s turn to frown. “Shuji Ikutsuki?” she says. “He works for us. He didn’t say he knew anyone else who had a Persona.”

He’s been testy lately, though. Always dodges the question when she asks what’s wrong. Seems preoccupied with something, though she doesn’t know what. Little bits of logic are starting to uneasily trickle together in her mind. They said they didn’t want to go back to Ergo Research…

Their faces shutter. “We’re not going back to Ikutsuki,” the first one snaps.

Scared, angry children in Tartarus, one with a Persona, and they know Ergo Research and Ikutsuki but they want to get away from them…

It paints a picture Mitsuru doesn’t want to look at.

But she can’t look away from her family’s sin. And she thinks she has found another one.

“I won’t take you to him,” she says firmly, and looks the first one directly in the eye, drawing up every ounce of iron-willed composure she has. “I don’t know what your situation is, but you have my word that no harm will come to you. My father has not authorized any experiments on children.” At least, she doesn’t think he has.

“Your father’s authority doesn’t mean much, then,” the first one says darkly.

“It means enough to keep you safe,” Mitsuru says. “I swear it.”

The boys look at each other. Silent communication passes between them.

Mitsuru holds out her hand. “I am Mitsuru Kirijo,” she says. “Whom do I have the honor of addressing?”

They look faintly amused at that. “Sho,” says the second one.

“Minazuki,” says the first one.

 _“Bienvenue,_ Sho and Minazuki,” Mitsuru says. Her hand remains outward. “Will you come with me?”

After another silent moment, Minazuki puts down his sword and takes her hand. He doesn’t seem certain what to do with it.

Mitsuru extends her other hand to Sho. He follows Minazuki’s example.

She doesn’t know what, exactly, she can even do with them--how long have they been here? Do they have anywhere else they can go? If her suspicions are correct, then it may be difficult to keep them safe, regardless of promises.

But they are children who thought Tartarus was preferable to wherever they came from. She cannot do nothing.

‘The name of my Persona is Penthesilea,” she says. “What’s yours?”

“…Tsukiyomi,” Minazuki says, after a moment.

Mitsuru smiles. “The god of the moon. There’s a full moon out tonight. Appropriate, no?”

Minazuki doesn’t quite smile, but he doesn’t seem angry. “Maybe,” he says.

“See? I told you it was something like that,” Sho says. He looks at Mitsuru and grins. “Tsukiyomi doesn’t talk a lot, but he’s cool,” he informs her.

“Oh?” Mitsuru says, amused. “I suppose Penthesilea is…cool, too.”

“Minazuki doesn’t talk a lot either, and he’s even better,” Sho says, nodding. Mitsuru glances over to see Minazuki resolutely looking at the floor.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Mitsuru says, trying not to giggle. She’s never had siblings. Is this what they’re like? “Now, I need to bring you to my father.”

“…your dad, um,” Sho starts saying. He seems like he doesn’t know what words to use. “…is he nice?” he finishes, a little awkwardly.

Mitsuru ponders it. “I don’t know if he’s _nice,”_ she says. “But he’s a good man.”

Minazuki smiles just a little bit, at that, and so does Sho. “That’s good,” Minazuki says.

Mitsuru squeezes their hands and smiles in turn. She doesn’t know the situation; she doesn’t know anything, really. But she is more than willing to learn. Besides, it might be nice to have friends. Maybe they could use one, too.

She stands hand-in-hand with her new friends, and walks with them back into the world.


End file.
